


The Summoning

by LovelyVillain



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angels, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Demons, Dubious Consent, F/M, I'm def gonna burn in hell for all eternity, Loss of Virginity, Mostly Filth, Religious Content, Sex in a Church, Witchcraft, but if demons like Tom are wandering around I think I'd choose to go there anyway, but not really, porn with a tiny scrap of plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-04 14:47:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15843480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyVillain/pseuds/LovelyVillain
Summary: Hermione never meant for this to happen. No one was supposed to get hurt. She was summoning an Angel after all...She forgot to read the fine print.Written for Tomione Smut Fest 2018, Prompt: Demon





	The Summoning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [weestarmeggie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weestarmeggie/gifts).



> Written for **Tomione Smut Fest 2018** hosted by weestarmeggie
> 
> **Prompt: Creature fic- Demon**
> 
> No religious disrespect intended. The only instruction given was for a certain someone to get _dicked down_ by a certain someone else. I just threw em in a church together. The rest is all Tom's doing, making him solely responsible for any and all damages to property and/or acts of moral indecency.
> 
> Calling this an AU is a gross understatement. Utter filth ahead.

 

  **The Summoning**

_**or** _

**Careful what you wish for, Ms. Granger.**

Hermione burst through the towering doors of the Church, panting from exhaustion, footsteps clumsy, catching herself against a wooden pew as she lost her balance.

She swallowed heavily, glancing over her shoulder with wide, tear-filled eyes.

Surely she was safe now.

Surely he couldn't follow her in _here_.

The doors banged shut behind her, causing her to shriek, nerves wrought from the terror of her night.

"Are you alright, my child?"

She spun around, still listing heavily against the back of the pew, spotting a Priest in full holy garb standing at the front of the room before a raised dais. Rows of candles lined the back wall.

She blinked, slowly walking into the aisle, chest heaving from her frantic sprint.

"I-"

The one syllable was all she managed to utter before the hundreds of candles began flickering in an invisible breeze. The moonlight streaming in through the tall stained glass windows gave way to a pitch black sky, void of stars.

Her heart leaped into her throat, fresh tears brimming.

"What evil is this?" The Priest gazed at the empty cosmos on the other side of the glass.

She shook her head, unable to find the words to explain.

And then the statues started to bleed from the eyes, summarizing the situation quite effectively.

"God help us." The Priest crossed himself, backing away rapidly. "Come with me, my child. We'll go to the back, it is safe there."

"Nowhere is safe for me." Tears streamed down her face. "Run. Save yourself."

"You must come with me."

The Church doors crashed open. A large figure born of shadow stood at the threshold.

"Sorry, Father. She's with me."

His voice shook the walls and rattled the windows, echoing through her head and chest.

"Begone, evil creature!" The Priest fumbled for the crucifix around his neck, hands trembling.

The creature in question rolled his eyes, waving his hand in a sign of dismissal, shadows coming to life and springing off the walls like undulating tentacles, wrapping around the man's wrists and ankles and ripping him back.

He screamed in terror, thrashing against his intangible binds. They held fast. Hermione covered her mouth with her hands, eyes wide in horror, and ducked behind a pew, arms wrapping around her trembling legs.

"Your powers are useless here, vile demon!" The Priest yelled, even as said powers hoisted the man into the air and pinned him flat against the wall.

"I don't appreciate the childish name calling. But I haven't formally introduced myself, so I'll forgive you this once." The stranger licked his lips, smirk wicked. "I've been called many names over the centuries. I went by Thomas the last time I walked among mortal men. But I think the one you'll recognize most is Raguel."

The Priest's eyes widened in shock. "No… you lie! You take the name of an angel to commit blasphemy!"

"Afraid not, Father. I'm the one and only. Just ask the girl, she called out my name three times after all." He winked at her huddled figure, terrified eyes barely visible through the gap in the bottom of the pew.

"Alas, I've since fallen from grace." He tipped his head, studying the prone form of the Priest. "Of course, Ms. Granger didn't know that when she summoned me forth. Silly little witch."

The Priest swallowed heavily. "Witchcraft…" his eyes narrowed, pinning her with the full force of his accusation. "You dare set foot in God's house? And bring this evil to its door! You shall both burn in hell for all eterniteeeeeeee!"

The last shocked syllable was screamed as the stained glass window shattered to thousands of pieces and his flailing body was launched through it. The Priest collided hard with the grass, skidding several feet before bouncing off the bushes. He quickly scrambled to his feet, gasping and sputtering, and sprinted to the road in blind terror.

The dark angel directed his attention to the half-hidden girl. And smiled. The effect was devastating on his perfectly chiseled face, almost detracting from the terror of watching him take a step inside the Church.

The ground trembled beneath his feet.

"I know promised I wouldn't take any more lives tonight... but he was _really_ starting to annoy me."

Hermione buried her face in her hands. "I didn't mean for this to happen," she whispered, but he heard her all the same, his inhuman senses attuned to her very heartbeat.

"I know, little one." His voice was gentle, soothing. Mocking. He started a slow trek up the center aisle, each pew he passed was thrown up against the wall by undulating shadows, the wood splintering on impact.

"And yet, you wished for justice to be served against the person who wronged you, and I delivered."

"You killed her!" She screamed, finding new courage in her outrage.

His victim's blood was still wet on his hands, the image of his talon tipped claw driving through the woman's chest and grasping her still beating heart would be forever emblazoned in Hermione's mind, haunting her until the end of her days.

"That vile excuse for a human killed your parents in cold blood. Hardly seems fair she was allowed to walk free simply due to a technicality of the modern justice system." He tipped his head, teeth catching the candlelight, the canines elongated to lethal points. "You can't tell me you didn't enjoy watching me send her soul to purgatory just a little bit."

"I'm a killer now, too."

"No, little one. I know killers. I spent eons punishing them with my bare hands and sword. You are innocent."

His heavy footsteps grew ever closer, only a few yards away now.

"In all ways."

Another pew was swallowed by raging shadows, ripped from the ground and cast against the wall, cracking down the center.

"But not for long."

His sensual tone awakened Hermione from her stupor. She scrambled to her feet, staggering into the aisle and racing towards the other end of the Church, to the raised dais.

"You know what the payment is, Ms. Granger. I delivered on my end of the bargain, now it's your turn to pay up."

Her heart was beating through her chest. Her white dress from the Summoning ceremony was stained in the blood of her parents' killer… this night was a never-ending nightmare.

She wept tears of fear and outrage, hopelessness and loss.

"I didn't know the price."

He was unaffected by her emotional outpour. "You knew it was a blood sacrifice."

"I cut my hand…"

"That's not the blood I need, little one."

She shuddered.

"Stop calling me that."

The last pew was wrenched away, destroyed. The statues dripped crimson liquid onto the tile floor, pools of it collected, growing, reaching for her.

"Very well… _Hermione_."

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs beneath the dais, gazing up at her trembling form, grey eyes lit by some internal light source.

"What are you?"

He watched her slide behind the dais, bracing her arms against it as though poised to run again.

"I'm a member of the Fallen. A Cast Out. A Forgotten Son."

He started up the stairs slowly, the shadows along the wall racing across the floor and collecting at his back, creating magnificent wings of gleaming black smoke.

"The Greeks referred to my kind as Daemons. Though you can call me anything you'd like. I'll need a modern name once the ritual is complete and I am free to walk among mortals once again."

He arrived on the platform she stood upon, separated by only the slab of crude cut marble.

His wings moved behind him as though composed of bone and feather, but she couldn't look away from his perfect, flawless face. His beauty was the most terrifying aspect of his makeup, for when paired with his lethal abilities and natural proclivity towards violence, it made him the ultimate predator. About to be unleashed upon all mankind.

He placed his large hands against the opposite side of the dais, leaning in, face lit with eager anticipation. It reminded her of the expression he wore before slaying Umbridge. And Hermione knew at that moment there was no escaping his clutches.

"Do you have any idea how long I've waited for a virgin witch to summon me from that ancient tome?"

The candles danced wildly before the flames exploded upward, becoming torches that mimicked the intensity of his words.

"But now it all makes sense." He licked his full lips, fangs flashing in the light. "I've spent all this time waiting for you, Hermione."

Her entire body thrummed with the force of her heartbeat.

"It was always meant to be you."

She couldn't abide the hunger in his gaze any longer, spinning on her heel and making a mad dash for freedom.

She raced out from behind the dais, attempting to leap off the back of the platform, but the blood had pooled around the base of the raised structure, creating a moat. The liquid was sentient, acidic, and she was terrified of coming into contact with it. She heard his deep chuckle from behind her back. He leaned casually against the dais, watching her.

"We have all night, Hermione. Though I advise you abandon these fruitless attempts to escape and conserve your energy."

His expression sobered, head tilting down, eyes darkening.

"I promise, you'll need every last ounce of strength once I have you beneath me."

Her heart skipped a beat.

_To hell with it!_

She leaped off the platform, landing in the pool of crimson, red splashing her bare calves and soaking her flats.

His laughter echoed off the stained glass and through her head as she raced up the main aisle, eyes fixed on the large double doors.

She didn't see the wings at his back melt once more into shadow, sliding down his body and along the floor, reaching out for her like grasping hands desperate to pull her into the underworld.

She felt something hot and electric wrap around her ankle, tugging, tipping her off balance. She crashed headfirst towards the hard ground, but the shadows wrapped around her chest and arms like dark bands, saving her from impact with only millimeters to spare.

The scream died in her throat, giving way to a gasp as she was hurtled backward through the air.

Until the shadows suddenly released, and she was falling falling falling, dress and hair whipping around her body, and then she landed in a seated position, the air knocked from her lungs. She swallowed thickly, shocked to still be in one piece, and realized a moment later that strong arms held her aloft.

She'd been deposited right into his grasp.

Hermione slowly met his gaze, hands pressing against the hard muscles of his chest, his alabaster skin burning hot through the thin material of his blood-soaked shirt.

He smiled, eyes bright and predatory.

"We must stop meeting this way."

She panicked, struggling against his iron hold.

"None of that now. You're caught, dove. The time for running is over."

He spun around on the platform, laying her atop the marble dais.

"I would have preferred the soft bed at the house I awoke in, or even the backseat of the car you commandeered. But alas, this is the destination you've chosen so this will have to do."

"Please," she whispered frantically, trying to slide off the dais, only for his hands to catch her beneath the knees, lifting her legs back up.

"If you enjoy begging, I am more than happy to accommodate."

His hands slid up her thighs, lifting the thin material of her white dress, fingertips wrapping around the elastic band of her underwear. Hermione feared her heart would explode.

"There has to be another way. Something else I can do for you. I can perform another spell, anything you want-"

"What I want is to lose myself inside you."

He curled his fingers around the fabric and pulled, dragging it slowly over her hips, past her bum, down her thighs, over her knees, and down her calves. The flimsy material fell past her ankles, hitting the platform like a judge's gavel.

"It's been centuries since I've had a woman. The souls left to wander the bowels of hell are such feral creatures. Not at all to my taste."

His hands slid up the back of her calves, pulling her knees apart and tugging her forward so she sat at the edge with him situated between her thighs.

"I much prefer tender morsels like you. Delicate, untouched. Your blood called to me between realms. I could smell you in the air, taste you on my tongue, even before I heard your voice utter the words to release me from my prison."

He tangled a hand in her hair, pulling her head back, forcing her gaze to meet his as he towered before her. His eyes gleamed like a cat in the dark, positively lethal. He leaned forward, lips brushing her own as he spoke.

"This doesn't have to hurt." His voice was thick with gravel. "I can show you pleasure beyond the likes of which you ever thought possible. I can make you delirious with it. Just surrender to me, Hermione, give yourself willingly and I will show you all of my gifts."

Tears leaked from the corner of her eyes as, to her unending shame, his words caused warmth to pool at her core, muscles clenching involuntarily.

He read the temptation in her eyes, attuned to the nuances of human expression after eons of serving as the Angel of Vengeance. And he smiled once more, fangs scraping gently against the plush pillow of her bottom lip.

She swallowed thickly.

_I can't fight this. I can't fight him..._

So she stopped trying.

"Good girl."

The warmth deepened and spread like hot oil through her veins.

His hands dragged the fabric of her dress up her thighs. When it could move no further because of her resting weight she instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips.

His eyes flashed with pleasure as he wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her up, pulling the dress past the swell of her bum and then setting her back down, tugging the fabric up her torso and over her raised arms. Her curls lifted with the material only to fall in a mesmerizing cascade around her shoulders upon release.

His pupils expanded rapidly at the sight of her pert breasts and rosy nipples, chestnut hair shimmering in the candlelight.

"You were worth the wait," he breathed, surging forward, lips capturing hers in a soul-searing kiss. His tongue wasted no time tracing the seam of her mouth, broad hands skimming along her sides, up and around to cup her breasts, the plump swells overfilling his rough hands. He growled low in his throat, wild, inhuman, and the pads of his thumbs flicked against her nipples, instantly hardening them to diamond points.

He bucked into her unprotected sex, the fabric of his leather pants rubbing the inside of her thighs, sending electric thrills along her skin. The prominent bulge at the front filled her with instinctual fear and excitement. His tongue took full advantage of her surprised gasp, sliding into her mouth, tracing the back of her teeth.

Hermione was overwhelmed, inexperienced, unsure what to do. Her hands clawed along his back, grabbing handfuls of his shirt. She wanted it gone, something manic unfurling inside her, making her wild with need.

She dragged her hands down his sides and pulled at the bottom hem, breaking the hungry kiss with a delicate mewl that caused his pupils to swallow the last of the grey. He took the issue into his own hands and tore the shirt over his head so roughly she heard the seams tear. As the muscled expanse of his chest came into view she felt her entire body throb.

She was burning hot, fevered, mindless in her base need.

_What is happening to me?_

She ran a shaky hand over her face, only for his fingers to wrap around her wrist and pull the appendage away.

"Don't think, just feel."

She gave into the command, her mind evading her entirely, leaving behind only a shell of wanton need and smoldering heat that would surely incinerate them both.

She gasped as his hands slid under her bare thighs and lifted her up, sliding her back against the dais, a hand wrapping around her throat and pushing her flat on her back, staring up at the painted ceiling mural with glazed eyes.

His fingers uncurled from her neck, slowly trailing across her collarbone and between the valley of her breasts, down the line of her abdomen before splaying across her flat stomach in a possessive brand. She swallowed, suspecting something sinister in her midst, terrified to look upon him but more terrified of not knowing.

She tipped her head up, peering down the length of her naked body and meeting his gaze. He smirked, feral and dangerous, crouched beside the dais, face level with her knees.

_What is he-_

Before she could complete the question in her mind he pushed her knees apart with his free hand and leaned his face in. She jolted, embarrassed, scared, but the hand at her stomach pinned her flat, held her easily in place. He maneuvered her leg over his shoulder and spread her further. She covered her face with her hands, mortified, unable to do anything but lay still and take whatever he-

"Uhn!"

Her spine arched off the dais, even with the force of his hand pressing her pelvis down. Her eyes rolled back in her head as he feasted upon her sex, skilled tongue tracing her delicate folds before dipping into her tight slit, lapping the fluids she secreted, body primed, ready, eager.

"You taste so sweet," he purred, voice rumbling into her center and throughout her entire body.

Hermione opened and closed her mouth, unable to withhold her broken sounds, the sensations too much to bear in silence. She jumped and jolted with each pass of his skilled tongue, each scrape of his sharp fangs.

"And so responsive."

He had been circling her most sensitive bundle of nerves until that point, drawing it out, teasing her, but as he brought it between his lips and suctioned it with the full force of his lungs, lapping it with his wet tongue all the while, she arched high off the dais and screamed, eyes squeezed shut, stars bursting behind her lids.

His hand pressed hard into her stomach, intensifying the pleasure tenfold until she was a sputtering mess, driven incoherent by the mind wracking sensation.

As the delirium ebbed his mouth released her. She gasped for air, settling back down to the cold marble, every nerve alive and sparking. She blinked at the ceiling, breathing fast, thoughts slow. And then the broad length of his tongue lapped over her sex, dragging her hypersensitive clit upward until she bucked continuously into his mouth, unable to control her body's natural reaction.

He chuckled, low and deep, mouth hovering at her thigh as his free hand went to work, a thick digit easily sliding inside her, curling upward, kneading against her clenching walls. He added a second finger and met great resistance. She gasped.

"So fucking tight." He growled, voice sounding truly demonic. "You're going to feel magnificent around my cock."

His words inspired a fresh wave of fear, but before she could fully process it she felt a sharp sting at her inner thigh, causing her to jerk hard with a cringe of pain.

She watched in wonderment and terror as he worked her with his fingers while drinking from her thigh. Blood dribbled past his bottom lip and trailed a crimson line across her pale flesh.

Suddenly a great warmth infused her leg, spreading up past her hip and pooling in her core, making her pelvic floor grip his fingers like a vice while endorphins flooded her brain.

Her eyes rolled back in her head a second time, her body writhing in heat.

He pulled his mouth away with a satisfied growl, lapping up the blood.

"The femoral artery is my favorite. On a virgin no less. I had to enjoy it while you can still make that claim."

She couldn't bear it anymore, his fingers weren't enough. She felt empty, her body yearned for him in a way that evaded rational thought. She reached for him, fingers curling beneath his sharp jaw, grasping his chin, directing his lust darkened eyes to meet hers.

"What have you done to me?"

He licked his lips. "Nothing yet, dove. It's what I'm about to do that should frighten you."

And then he stood, releasing her legs to hang limp off the edge of the dais while he unfastened his pants, and as his cock sprang free she felt her eyes widen in shock and fear and longing. She unconsciously reared back and the shadows raced up the platform, wrapping around her wrists and pulling her arms over her head, holding her in place.

He gazed down upon her like a wild beast tracking its prey.

"I'm going to fuck you, Hermione. I'm going to drink from you." He pulled her trembling knees apart, massive cock fully erect, bobbing between his muscular legs, oozing a thick dollop of precum from the dark slit. "I'm going to fuck you until you bleed."

He took his cock in hand, pumping it once, twice, the pearly liquid dripping from the end onto her sex, mixing with her own copious fluids.

"And then I'm going to drink that blood, too."

She gasped, back arching in a vain attempt to escape as he lined himself up at her slit. But there was no escaping the supernatural binds at her wrists or the iron grip of his hand at the back of her knee, holding her open.

"Fuck…" he hissed, pushing his engorged head inside her. Her muscles squeezed in protest, desperate to expel the foreign invader. He swallowed thickly, Adam's apple bobbing, eyes fixed on their joined bodies as he pushed deeper.

Hermione moaned, jolting as his thick head bounced against her inner barrier. One hand held her knee steady while the other slid up to grasp her hip, and then his eyes met hers, full of want and hunger and rendering her breathless.

He broke through her wall.

She screamed, head tipping back, tears leaking from behind her dark lashes.

He pushed further, and further, and further yet, his length never ending, until finally he bottomed out, sheathed fully inside her clenching passage. Her untried muscles squeezed him like a vice, milking him beyond her control.

She pulled at her binds, twisting beneath him. The hand at her hip squeezed.

"Shh, it's gone now, Hermione. It's over." His words caused her cries to die down to weak, broken murmurs. "You're mine. There's nothing left to fight."

His hand slid up her body, wiping away her tears. She stared at him, feeling the pulsating beat of his cock inside her, steady and strong compared to her own frantic heart. His gaze held her captive.

"Give into me, and let me show how glorious immortality is."

She released a slow breath as sensational warmth and euphoria tingled up through her body, making her sex gush around him. She moaned, working her hips, grinding her pelvis against his.

His chest rumbled as he grasped her throat, leaning over her to commandeer a kiss while his hips began to piston in and out of her clenching passage. The pain was a distant memory, just like her virginity, and Hermione bucked into his pounding movements, desperately chasing _something_.

The shadows binding her wrists fell away. His strong arm slid beneath her waist and raised her up, pressing her sensitive breasts into his unyielding chest. He guided her legs to wrap around his hips as he lifted her off the dais entirely, spinning them while still inside her, and sat back on the marble himself, pulling her onto his lap, the new angle driving him even deeper inside her.

She gasped against his mouth, sharing his breath, his large hands directing the pumping of her hips, helping her find the rhythm, allowing her to take over.

"Like that. Just like that," he panted against her lips.

She felt emboldened by the new position, bracing her hands on his broad shoulders and moving her hips in slow, languid motions, relishing the feel of his cock bottoming out inside her each time, the pull on her walls at the suction of his withdrawal, the electric tingles radiating out from her core through her entire body.

And then his hand tangled her curls, tipping her head back as his fangs scraped along the sensitive skin of her neck. Her eyes rolled back once more.

"Do it." She didn't recognize her lust-thickened voice.

He chuckled low against her throat, voice equally distorted, and then his tongue laved her skin. She swallowed, gasping for air, then gasping in ecstasy as his fangs punctured her flesh. The flash of pain gave way to the same euphoric heat from before, causing her muscles to melt into him, her hips slowing as she basked in the feeling.

His arm slid around her small waist and took over the pumping movements, hard and fast and relentless. He swallowed her blood greedily, she heard every convulsive gulp, felt the motion of his Adam's apple against the hollow of her throat.

And then his hips stuttered, losing the rhythm. He tore his fangs from her neck, tossing his head back and releasing a thunderous growl that shook the windows in their frames.

He slammed into her one last time and held, pressing her down, pushing his own hips up, keeping himself rooted as deep as possible as his cock erupted.

The peak of his pleasure forced her off the ledge as well. Her walls clamp around him in a bruising vice as ecstasy infused her, rushing along her spine and filling her vision with bright light. Her muscles tightened and released, tightened and released, milking him, keeping him rooted deep inside her.

Warmth permeated her womb in a gushing flood. Rope after rope after rope of thick cum filled her to capacity, drenching his cock and slipping free from her slit to pool along the floor in a puddle of white.

His cock continued to pulsate within her, ecstasy written across his face. He was magnificently beautiful at that moment. Her chest ached to look upon him. Her hand lifted of its own accord, tracing the hollows beneath his sharp cheekbones, along his dark brow.

His eyes opened, stunningly grey again. They continued to gleam, his expression supremely satiated. He swallowed thickly, the arm around her waist pulling her flush against his chest as he tipped back, lying them both flat on the dais. His softening cock slipped free, resting against the inside of her blood and seed soaked thigh, still massively intimidating in size.

He folded a muscular arm beneath his head, gazing up at the mural as his long fingers traced patterns on her hip. She rested her head on his chest, his steady heartbeat reverberating beneath her ear. Their breathing slowed, bodies cooling.

Her mind started to return, the heat fueled delirium passing.

And yet a strange sense of calm infused her bones. She wasn't afraid anymore. For once her heart and mind were of one understanding.

She was his. He was hers.

And nothing else mattered.

"I'll need a new name for the human world." His voice echoed through the demolished space. "I went by Thomas centuries ago, before my imprisonment."

She blinked slowly, watching the shadows dance along the walls and floor, patiently awaiting their master's next command. She flattened a palm over his ribs, wondering if they would now answer to her bidding as well.

"Thomas is a bit old world. Just use Tom."

"Hm. I like the sound of it on your lips." His fingertips traced the long line of her back, sending chills in their wake.

"You'll need a surname, too," she added.

"Pick whatever you like. It'll become yours as well."

Her lids felt heavy. She blinked slowly, the candlelight dimming around them.

"Raguel is too archaic. Maybe something similar sounding…" she yawned into the back of her hand before settling into the gentle rise and fall of his chest once more. "Perhaps… Riddle?"

"Tom Riddle." He raised a dark brow, glancing down at her. "Has a nice ring to it."

Hermione raised her head, smiling slowly. "Yes." She leaned up, kissing his lips, letting her mouth linger. "Yes, it does."

~ fin ~


End file.
